The Valley of the Giants eBook

“By all means. Usually I ride in the cab
with the engineer and fireman; but if you’re
coming, I’ll have them hook on the caboose.
Step lively, my dear, or they’ll be holding the
train for us and upsetting our schedule.”

CHAPTER XV

By virtue of their logging-contract with Pennington,
the Cardigans and their employees were transported
free over Pennington’s logging railroad; hence,
when Bryce Cardigan resolved to wait upon Jules Rondeau
in the matter of that murdered Giant, it was characteristic
of him to choose the shortest and most direct route
to his quarry, and as the long string of empty logging-trucks
came crawling off the Laguna Grande Lumber Company’s
log-dump, he swung over the side, quite ignorant of
the fact that Shirley and her precious relative were
riding in the little caboose in the rear.

At twelve-ten the train slid in on the log landing
of the Laguna Grande Lumber Company’s main camp,
and Bryce dropped off and approached the engineer
of the little donkey-engine used for loading the logs.

“Where’s Rondeau?” he asked.

The engineer pointed to a huge, swarthy man approaching
across the clearing in which the camp was situated.
“That’s him,” he replied. And
without further ado, Bryce strode to meet his man.

“Are you Jules Rondeau?” he demanded as
he came up to the woods-boss. The latter nodded.
“I’m Bryce Cardigan,” his interrogator
announced, “and I’m here to thrash you
for chopping that big redwood tree over in that little
valley where my mother is buried.”

“Oh!” Rondeau smiled. “Wiz
pleasure, M’sieur.” And without a
moment’s hesitation he rushed. Bryce backed
away from him warily, and they circled.

“When I get through with you, Rondeau,”
Bryce said distinctly, “it’ll take a good
man to lead you to your meals. This country isn’t
big enough for both of us, and since you came here
last, you’ve got to go first.”

Bryce stepped in, feinted for Rondeau’s jaw
with his right, and when the woods-boss quickly covered,
ripped a sizzling left into the latter’s midriff.
Rondeau grunted and dropped his guard, with the result
that Bryce’s great fists played a devil’s
tattoo on his countenance before he could crouch and
cover.

“This is a tough one,” thought Bryce.
His blows had not, apparently, had the slightest effect
on the woods-boss. Crouched low and with his
arms wrapped around his head, Rondeau still came on
unfalteringly, and Bryce was forced to give way before
him; to save his hands, he avoided the risk of battering
Rondeau’s hard head and sinewy arms.